


Latecomer

by infaredlove



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, F/F, Fear, Pink diamond has great moms, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, blue and yellow diamond are great moms, mothering diamonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infaredlove/pseuds/infaredlove
Summary: Xanthe gets home from work late, only to find her daughter is still awake.





	Latecomer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spinoff of my human AU fic, "prosecute and defend". Check it out. Its also a vent fic.
> 
> Scarlet: Pink diamond  
> Xanthe: Yellow diamond  
> Linnea: Blue diamond

Twelve o’clock at night was never a good time to enter a house for a teen, let alone for an adult. It would not have been so much of a problem for a grown woman, if she did not have a wife and a fourteen year old daughter that had been eagerly awaiting her arrival nearly eight hours prior. As the family was, to put simply, upper class (though the latecomer had not started out that way, and the daughter had been born into a halfway home and later abandoned), their daughter was enrolled in a private school. While this made her ability to gain education significantly easier than that of her less privileged peers, the competition for a high rank in her graduating class made it extremely difficult to be recognized as an exemplary student. Both mothers gently pushed for their daughter to be a scholar, she had branched off in a different direction- environmental activism. Instead of writing papers, the daughter used her eloquent words to provide a voice to the more natural world, investigating local businesses and educating others on their ability to receive sustainable grants through state and national government programs. Pushing for change, she worked with her private school to fund recycling bin installation in the halls and classrooms. Going one step farther, she raised money to do the same thing in public schools throughout the city. As a young girl, it was remarkable the amount of things she had done for the topic she cared most about. That was why it had been so important for the latecomer to get out of work that night. 

 

Scarlet was being honored at an alumni dinner. While Linnea, her mother, had attended said school, Xanthe grew up in another state entirely and had never even heard of it until Scarlet went there. Regardless, her chest had swelled with pride when she discovered her very own daughter was being honored for her hard work.

 

Now, all she felt was shame. Truly, it felt as though she had failed as a mother. Of course, it was not all her fault. A company merger had gone wrong, and instead of returning home early in the afternoon, she had ended up on a conference call until eleven at night. While she succeeded in the merger, she had failed on her promise. Sighing quietly, she passed her own bedroom to see that all of the lights were off. Even Linnea was too tired to give her a talking-to about missing their daughters’ big day. 

 

“I really screwed up.” Xanthe declared under her breath, going back downstairs and opting to shower in that bathroom as to not wake anyone up. Undressing slowly, she examined herself in the mirror. Frankly, she was unprepared to realize how much she had aged. Bags under the eyes, worry lines on her face, and hollow cheeks made her look (and feel) like a sixty five year old man, rather than a thirty five year old woman. Turning away from the mirror, she rubbed her eyes and got into the shower. It took time for her to scrub the makeup from her face and the gel from her hair. It took even longer for her to try and work the knots out of her neck and back as well as Linnea did. Usually, a long, hot shower helped her relax. Linnea would rub her neck, and in return, Xanthe would carry her lovely wife to bed and hold her as she slept. Even now, she would be able to coddle her wife as soon as she went upstairs. But something was making her feel uneasy- more so than she should have. Getting out and drying herself off, Xanthe mulled over what could possibly be causing the problem. She had finished and signed the merger papers, so work could not be the culprit. While she was going to be upset, Linnea was not mad at her, and she was sure Scarlet would not be either. However, a part of her felt as though something more was going on with her daughter. Maternal instincts mixed with an overactive imagination made it grow worse, and so she decided she would at least check on her to make sure she was sleeping soundly. Dressing in a long bathrobe, the elegant woman made her way up the stairs and to the hallway that her daughters room resided on- three doors down from her own. The first noticeable thing was that Scarlet’s pink “fairy lights” were on, casting a soft glow from beneath her door. It set off a yellow flag in her mind. While it was a Friday night, Scarlet rarely left her lights on past ten. Knocking softly, Xanthe waited for an answer. Perhaps she had simply fallen asleep with the lights on, she thought, and that eased her nerves slightly. Putting an ear up to the door, she knocked louder, hoping to wake her up. A red flag went off when she could hear shuffling, but no response from her daughter. Pushing the door open, Xanthe was greeted with a pile of blankets in the middle of the bed, and her tiny daughter curled up inside of them. 

 

“Scarlet, sweetheart. I wanted to speak with you about today…” The worried mother started, only to stop when she saw the state her daughter was in as she approached her. Scarlet’s hands were shaking, and her eyes were squeezed shut, as though she had been having a nightmare. It looked as though she had been sweating, but her skin was still covered in goosebumps.

 

Xanthe knelt on the bed, gently touching her daughters arms. “Scarlet? Scarlet, talk to me.” She urged, hoping to elicit a response. Fortunately, pale eyes opened to meet her own, and a set of little arms wrapped around her torso. Xanthe could feel how shaken she was, and quickly lifted her into her lap, rocking back and forth. “Scarlet. Tell me what’s wrong. You can trust me, baby, tell momma what happened…” She whispered in her ear, though Xanthe knew exactly what was happening. Her daughter suffered from night terrors, memories of when she was very, very young and living with her abusive foster parents. The reactions she suffered ranged from screaming fits to shutting down completely, and fell anywhere in between. Most commonly, though, both mothers would find her like this- completely shaken, cold and yet sweating, and on the verge of tears in her bed. 

 

“I had… I had a bad dream…” Scarlet murmured, in a voice that reminded Xanthe of a little kid. The mother pressed her lips against the soft hair on her head, nodding softly. “I was gonna get hurt… She was hurting me.” The girl explained, her eyes glassy and unfocused. “I was going to get hurt… I want to go home…” Her voice fell, as the sobs crashed from her throat and into her mother's’ shoulder. “I want to go home…” 

 

“You are home, sweetheart. You’re with your momma right now. It’s me, Xanthe,” She explained, as she had so many times before. A creak behind her and a hand on her shoulder signified that her wife had joined them. “Mommy is here too, Linnea. You remember us. We adopted you and brought you here to live with us, okay? You’re at home, sweetie. You’re safe here.” Xanthe soothed, as she melodiously rocked her sobbing teen. Each time her daughter would repeat the phrase: “i want to go home”, Xanthe would remind her of where she was, and who her mothers were, and what she was doing there. It did not matter how many times she had to repeat it- regardless, she wanted her daughter to feel safe. Eventually, after the fourth time and ten minutes of gentle coddling, Scarlet was able to stop crying and focus again. It took her ten more minutes to speak, but Linnea and Xanthe encouraged her to only talk if she truly felt like she could. 

 

“Im… sorry,” Scarlet whispered, as she looked down at her hands. “I was upset… that mom wasn't there tonight. I kept thinking, maybe it was my fault, and you weren't proud of me. When I got back I felt worse, but I should have told mommy. Instead, I hid. Im sorry.” She explained, looking up at the two figures watching her. 

 

“I'm sorry too, Scarlet. The merger went wrong and I was stuck at work. I couldn't even hang up my phone. But I want you to know that I am  _ so  _ sorry I missed it.” Xanthe explained, reaching out and stroking her hair. “I also want you to know that I am proud of you. I'm so sorry you felt bad. You don't have to apologize for having an episode- we both understand that high stress can do this to you. We don't expect you to tell us every single time that you don't feel well. We just want you to be okay.” 

 

“Your mother is right,” Linnea piped up, kneeling and hugging her daughter. “You did so well, telling us how you felt afterwards. It must be very hard for you to talk about your dreams. We really appreciate how much you trust us.”

 

Scarlet hugged her mother, nodding softly. “Thanks… Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” She asked, looking up at Xanthe. 

 

“Of course. Come here, momma will carry you.” The strong woman knelt down, lifting her up against her chest like a princess and carrying her to their bedroom. Linnea unplugged the lights and followed suit, crawling back into bed and making room for their daughter. Xanthe laid her down and got in alongside them, tucking her favorite girls into bed.

 

“I love you guys.” Scarlet murmured, as she turned and laid her head against Linnea’s soft chest. 

 

“I love you too,” Linnea whispered, kissing her head. “And I love you.” She added, pecking Xanthe on the lips and shutting her eyes in the dark room.

 

“I love both of you very much,” Xanthe whispered, kissing each woman on the head. “Goodnight, my dear girls.” Closing her eyes, the woman thought about how lucky it was that she had gotten home late that night. If that had not happened, her daughter would have had a much worse time than what had already happened. For once, she was happy that she had been a latecomer. 

  
  



End file.
